The Interior of a Heart
by korinara
Summary: Various Pairings. “It is to the credit of human nature that, except where its selfishness is brought into play, it loves more readily than it hates.” A collection of drabbles, oneshots, and vignettes. Crack pairings with an occasional touch of normalcy.
1. It's Been Forever, ObiSaku

**Interior of a Heart**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Naruto; all characters contained within and involved in sexual and/or lewd/lascivious activities are over the legal age of eighteen. This applies for all future chapters.

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**It's Been Forever**

**Pairing: **Obito/Sakura

**Rating: **T

**Words: **279

He talks about lots of things. Like the obscure fallacies of his old crush. Like the taste of his first kiss. Like the cowlick on the back of his head that's always annoyed him. Like simple, petty things that make Sakura glad that he's nothing like Kakashi or his entire generation—that he's the odd one out from his flock.

And somehow…his mass deformation doesn't bother her. She doesn't even _see _the grotesque scars and the warped flesh on his right side. The crude absence of his left eye doesn't even deserve more than a passing glance. Because the things that she absolutely adores—_cherishes—_about Uchiha Obito, alive, warm, and sitting in front of her in that hospital bed as he recovers from everything, completely override whatever physical defects he may harbor.

She watches him draw a smiley face in the "O" of his name on those official hospital reports, and when she signs it, herself, she ends the tail of her signature with a heart.

It's the first time that he presses his lips to hers, stitches stretching, taut, scarred skin of his cheek rubbing against the smooth skin of hers.

And she doesn't mind at all.

Not even when Naruto, happy and content because everything is back to normal in his world, walks in and almost has a heart attack.

Not even when Kakashi, stoic and disapproving, but happy that his friend is back, shakes his head and visits every chance he gets.

Not even when Sasuke, down from his revenge high after the death of his brother and finally _home, _huffs a soft, almost unnoticeable, "You always knew you'd fall in love with an Uchiha."


	2. Truly, DeiSaku

**Truly**

**Pairing: **Deidara/Sakura

**Rating: **T

**Words: **433

He sat down beside her, hands in his pockets, watching her as she closed her eyes and smiled.

"What are you doing, yeah?" he asked, and even though she didn't see him, she knew he'd raised an eyebrow.

"I'm making art."

He scoffed. "With what medium?"

She loved it when he was interested. "Myself."

"How the…what?" The couch squeaked as he leaned forward. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"I'm imagining things. Painting a picture in my head, if you'll excuse the pun."

He scoffed—louder this time—and leaned back. When she peeked at him out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a lump of clay in his hands as he molded it to whatever ends he was going to create.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

He grunted. "Making _true _art, yeah."

"Art," she explained slowly, "comes from the mind. The mind is the originator of all things."

"_And?"_

"The definition of true is pure; untainted; honest; simple."

"Yes, Sakura, I fucking realize this." He curved something around the base of the clay mold in his hands. "Are you going to be making a point soon, or can I just stop listening now?"

She smiled slyly. "Something pure is something that comes directly from the creator. A pure piece of quartz. A pure bottle of milk. A pure bag of wool."

He sighed dramatically and used his pinky finger to gingerly make an indent near the top of the figure. "Thanks for the vocabulary lesson, yeah. I can feel my brain just _expanding."_

"So the _purest _form of art can only be the art that has not yet been replicated."

He stopped and was silent for a moment, staring at her with that one visible, blue eye. She heard his scope whir as he undoubtedly adjusted it according to their positions. "What are you getting at?" he asked carefully.

"The _purest _form of art," she said, opening her eyes and dropping her smile to one of gentle reassurance, "is the art that's still in your head. Anything other than that is just a copy."

His stare softened into a wry smile, and he crushed the beginnings of the artwork in his hands, clay seeping through his fingers. "Hmm. Demeaning my art, now?"

"Not at all." She leaned forward to brush her lips over the corner of his mouth—not really a kiss, but it was enough. "I love your art. _Especially _when I have to guess."

He replaced the clay into the pouch at his hip and huffed quietly. "Learned everything you know from me, yeah."

"Of course."


	3. Everything, ItaSaku

**Everything**

**Pairing: **Itachi/Sakura

**Rating: **T

**Words: **237

"Why am I blindfolded?" she would ask.

"Because I don't want you to see me, Sakura," he would answer. And then he would kiss her. And she would feel content, if only for a second.

"Why am I tied up?" she would ask.

"Because I don't want you to feel me, Sakura," he would answer. And then he would touch her. And she would feel uneasy, if only for a minute.

_Why am I gagged? _she would wonder.

"Because I don't want to hear you, Sakura," he would answer. And then he would undress her. And she would feel obligated, if only for a while.

"Why are you doing this?" she would ask.

"Because I can't lose, Sakura," he would answer. And then he would leave her. And she would feel empty, if only for a day.

"Why can't you forget me?" she would ask.

"Because I _refuse _to, Sakura," he would answer. And then he would take her. And she would feel helpless, if only for a year.

"Why are we together?" she suspects she'll ask.

"Because we can be, Sakura," she supposes he'd answer. And then he will _be _her. And she will feel trapped, if only for a lifetime.

"Why are you still with me?" he would ask.

"Because I _want _to be, Itachi," she would answer. And then he would glance at her.

And she would feel content, if only for a second.


	4. Clouds, PeinSaku

**Clouds**

**Pairing: **Pein/Sakura  
**Rating: **T  
**Words: **100

She stands there, staring at him, watching, waiting.

This man stares blankly up into the vast, cloudless sky, his odd, ringed eyes with too much pink around the edges half lidded. He is dying. He'll join Tsunade and Jiraiya soon.

He closes those eyes, and without even a clap of thunder, it is pouring rain. Drops fall on his face, slide down between his eyes, dot his lips, and he smiles so, so weakly.

"I love the rain," he whispers, and perhaps, Sakura muses, he does not know she is there. "But it's not enough to wash away the blood."


	5. Kin, DeiSaku

**Kin**

**Pairing: **Deidara/Sakura

**Rating: **T

**Words: **297

There was a time in Deidara's life when he never would have considered having kids of his own. He'd been an only child, after all. He didn't know anything about babies besides that they cried too loud and they were far too adventurous when it came to playing with his hair.

But…he was a lot older, now. Well…his hair wasn't exactly graying and he had neither wrinkles nor degenerative issues with his bones or joints, but he was getting there. Twenty-eight and counting, he supposed, was far old enough for children.

So it didn't surprise him when he was presented with this kid—this infant—this thing that was his to share with no one else but the mother—that he felt this odd tug in his chest. It was just above his heart and just under his skin: not painful, but hard enough to make its presence known. And it was…almost a good feeling. It was _nice._

The child was a form of artwork in its own right. Combining the traits of himself and his wife, making something that was its own and a little bit of each of them. And the child was a bit of his grandparents and his wife's, and a bit of _their _grandparents, and so on and so forth. The roots just went so deep; it was almost overwhelming.

Sakura, still on the bed with tousled hair and heavy-lidded eyes, sighed angrily. "Are you done fawning, Deidara? I'd like to have a chance to hold my baby, too, seeing as I just went through_ nine hours of labor _to give birthto him,you bastard."

He smirked and tapped his son on the nose with a thumb, satisfied when the infant made a scrunch-face. "In a minute, yeah. I'm almost done."


	6. Hey, You, SasuSaku

**Hey, You**

**Pairing: **SasuSaku  
**Rating: **T

**Words: **100

"Hey, Mr. Fucking Wonderful."

That caught his attention.

Sasuke turned slowly, eyes dark and narrowed—just how she remembered him.

Sakura had thought long about what her words would be to him. It had been so long. So, so terribly long, and she probably should say something that would be meaningful and powerful.

Just as she opened her mouth to speak, something caught her eye, and she had to violently force herself not to chuckle.

Sasuke raised an eyebrow. "What, Sakura?"

This was it. Things needed to be said.

And this was the most important of all.

"Your zipper's down."


	7. Obligatory, KakaSakuYama

**Obligatory**

**Pairing: **Kakashi/Sakura/Yamato

**Rating: **T

**Words: **256

Kakashi was not jealous.

Kakashi wasn't even _prone_ to jealousy.

That said, Kakashi was most certainly _not_ jealous of Yamato.

Because that was just a ridiculous sentiment.

However, he couldn't deny that he felt an odd sort of obligation to protect his student from weird ANBU guys.

And Yamato just happened to fit into that criteria.

So, really, could one blame him for coincidentally running into them while shopping? Or could one blame him for intentionally dragging Sakura along with him whenever Yamato had a day off?

Of course they could.

But that didn't mean Kakashi was going to relent.

So, with a certain proud gait and a certain tune on his tongue, he strode to Sakura's house and knocked on her front door.

Yamato had Saturday's off.

Today was Saturday.

Therefore, Kakashi needed Sakura for something--anything.

See? It was all part of the equation. And nowhere _in_ that equation was the word "jealousy" or any deviation thereof mentioned.

"Hey, Kakashi," Sakura said upon opening her door. "What's up?"

He shrugged noncommittally. "I wanted to see if you'd join me for...ah...picking up some things." He needed to work on his alibis.

Her smile fell into a slight frown. "Oh, I'm sorry. I was actually going to help Yamato with his backyard today. He's got a nasty weed problem."

Nasty weed, indeed.

Kakashi waved a dismissive hand. "That's alright. Maybe next time."

And with that he walked right back to his own apartment with a small note to self: get to Sakura's house _earlier_ next time.


	8. Training Grounds, LeeTen

**Training Grounds**

**Pairing: **Rock Lee/Tenten

**Rating: **T

**Words: **245

"Tenten! Don't give up! The power of youth has--argh!"

While a clean-cut fist to the face wasn't exactly Lee's most coveted way of starting the day, it certainly was way up there on the list.

Especially when that fist belonged to Tenten.

"Good!" he said, blocking another hit. "You're doing so well!"

And the smile that lit up her face was worth all of the pain, he figured.

Yes, even when her legs distracted him long enough for her to land another punch to the face.

Why the _face?_

"Yes, Tenten!" he said, a little less spirited this time. "That's wonderful!"

"Thank you, Lee!"

He managed to block a kick this time. _Thankfully._ It seemed that Tenten wasn't afraid of playing dirty to get what she wanted, which was why Rock Lee was currently avoiding her movements like the plague. He _wanted_ children in the distant future, thanks.

She lifted both her arms in the air, and he was distracted by the area of stomach that had been bared. Unconsciously, he--

Oh, there was the kick.

Groaning and grunting and very, _very_ close to cursing under his breath, he called time-out and dropped to his knees and then his side.

"Lee, are you alright?" came the sweet question a few moments later, and he felt the soft padding of her feet as she approached him.

"Fine," he rasped, casting her a weak, white smile, and she smiled back.

Yeah. The pain was worth it.


	9. Scroll, KibaIno

**Scroll**

**Pairing: **Kiba/Ino

**Rating: **T

**Words: **437

Now Ino blamed the scroll.

When Tsunade had requested that she, Kiba, and Sakura travel with this top-secret scroll to Wind Country, she'd blamed her father for never paying her enough money at the flower shop.

When the weather had turned out absolutely awful for the first half of the trip there, she'd blamed Mother Nature for being an unmerciful bitch.

When they were attacked by a group of enemy-nin and Kiba broke his ankle in the process, she blamed Sakura for distracting him so much with her incessant bossiness.

When they were attacked a second time not more than three days later and Sakura was killed in the process, she blamed herself for somehow taking away her best friend's confidence.

When Kiba was the only one around to comfort her in the aftermath, she blamed fate for being so, so unfair.

When they arrived in Wind and delivered the scroll and somehow managed to dawdle until they had to stay the night, she blamed her arbitrary self-hate over her former friend.

When Kiba was the one who gave her what she needed most that night, making her forget her sorrow with earthly pleasures and his tongue on her neck and _comfort sex,_ Ino, it was called _comfort sex._ she blamed her lack of self-control.

When they made the return trip slowly, taking their time, and they somehow managed to run into the same group of enemies and she and Kiba and Akamaru _killed them all,_ she blamed her newfound appreciation for life and, in reciprocate, death.

When they walked into Tsunade's office with no proof of Sakura's death but their own memories and Akamaru licked her hand and whined and rubbed against her ankle, she blamed the hokage, herself.

When she skipped out on Sakura's burial ceremony and Kiba was the one to stay with her in the dark, closed-up flower shop, falling asleep with her on the tile floor as they hid from the village and listened to the rain and lightning, she blamed his libido.

When they ended up having sex on that very same tile floor the next day, she blamed _hers._

And when she thought back on it all, on all the things she'd passed off on others, on all the people and forces she'd blamed in the course of her life and this particular experience, she decided that the only thing to blame was the scroll.

Because if she didn't, she'd blame herself, and Kiba always did tell her that they were all just innocent in the grand scheme of things.

And she believed him.

More than anything in the world.


	10. Guilty, LeeSaku

**Guilty**

**Pairing: **Rock Lee/Sakura

**Rating: **T

**Words: **271

There was guilt there, sure, but the utter brevity and pristine sense of something that just _had_ to be love was there, as well. And it far overshadowed any ill-will that Rock Lee may have felt toward himself, because as much as he wanted to blame his hormones, his dedication to Sakura, or his desperation to just have anything solid and _alive_ to hold onto, he just couldn't.

He just couldn't blame himself for loving her.

Could he?

"Of course not," Tenten panted during a training session.

"Perhaps you are both equally to blame," Neji murmured during a mission.

"Better you than _Sasuke!"_ Chouji snorted through a bowl of ramen.

"The choice is ultimately up to you," Gai said around a gleam of pearly white teeth.

"You shouldn't even consider it," Kakashi drawled, flipping a page of his book idly.

"Why is it a factor?" Naruto asked with a shrug.

"Stop thinking stupid things like that!" Ino shouted while sneering.

"You should learn to relax once in a while," Shikamaru muttered with closed, casual eyes.

And even though he'd gotten such amazing answers from such amazing friends, Rock Lee still felt guilty for "stealing" Sasuke's woman.

And so he asked him himself.

"Are you angry with me, Sasuke? For taking Sakura away from you?"

And he didn't miss the way Sasuke's gaze drifted slowly down to the engagement ring on Lee's right hand.

"No," Sasuke mused, curling his hands around the bars of his cell. "I never wanted her in the first place."

Rock Lee didn't feel guilty about the smile on his own lips.

But he sure hoped Sasuke did.


	11. Balanced Diet, HidanSaku

**Balanced Diet**

**Pairing: **Hidan/Sakura

**Rating: **T

**Words: **266

"I don't care if you've been dead for years, Hidan."

"And I don't care if _you_ don't fucking care! That shit is nasty and I don't want it."

"Hidan!"

"Fuck you!"

"Not if you don't eat your Goddamn broccoli!"

It only really took him a second to process this, and once he did he gingerly picked up a single piece of broccoli by its topmost tip. "But it's so..._disgusting._ I fucking _hate_ vegetables. Seriously."

Sakura, feeling far too triumphant to be healthy, planted her fists on her hips as she stood over him. "So then _learn_ to like them."

"My mother died years ago, Sakura; I don't need another one." He sneered and picked off a strip of green from the stem. "This is such bullshit! It looks like a miniature tree. And it probably fucking tastes like one, too!"

"Well, if you don't try it, then you'll never know, will you?"

And without another grumble of protest, he shoved it ungracefully into his mouth, chewing loudly and with a wide, open mouth, sneering and grimacing the whole way. Apparently he wanted as little to touch his tongue and taste buds as possible.

He swallowed, and a smug grin crossed Sakura's features.

_"There,"_ he complained, smacking his lips like he had peanut butter stuck to the roof of his mouth. "I fucking ate it. Happy?"

"Yes. Very. A balanced diet is important, after all."

"Okay, so your turn, mother-fucking goddesss of mother-fucking vegetables. Let's see you shove some mini-trees down your pretty fucking throat, seriously."

Sakura waved a dismissive hand. "No, thanks. I don't like vegetables."


	12. All Her Fault, PeinSaku

**All Her Fault**

**A/N: **I forgot to mention it, but most or all of these are requests. So if you want to see something, go ahead and feel free to comment with your pairing/character of choice and a theme. Just please refrain from requesting yaoi or yuri, because I really can't write it.**  
**

**Pairing: **Pein/Sakura

**Rating: **M

**Words: **475

It was all her fault.

It really was.

He _swore_ it was, because he'd never be in this predicament in the first place if she hadn't intrigued him so. He wouldn't be grasping a kunai between bloody teeth with a bloody hand gripping onto a foreign, cold, bloody neck. He wouldn't be sticking his hand through someone's esophagus right now if she hadn't just...

If _he_ hadn't just...

Pein ripped out a tongue with chakra-strengthened fingers.

Oh, but he couldn't lie, because he _loved_ it. The carnage, the screaming, the mass hysteria, the pain--it was all just so intoxicating. Better than any earthly pleasures he could obtain from the girl, for sure.

...And he _still_ couldn't lie.

_Nothing_ would be better than her thighs sliding under his, his hands wrapping around her shoulders and her neck, firm but never hurting her. He'd never hurt someone he cared about.

He hadn't hurt Konan.

He'd been in love with Konan.

He'd been in love with Sakura.

He hadn't hurt Sakura.

It was all part of the formula.

He'd _never_ hurt the women. But Konan was dead and now so was this poor shinobi currently lacking several vital organs beneath him.

His nose twitched in agitation, and he scratched the bridge of it, unconsciously smearing blood across his visage.

Up to his elbows in blood, killing them slowly but absolutely, leaving no one behind, _this_ was how Pein worked and _this_ was what Pein loved. There was just no way to concretely describe it.

"You'll never love Sakura like I do," he muttered mostly to himself, slitting some other poor, male shinobi's neck. "You'll never even get the chance. _None_ of you will."

The door creaked open just as he dropped the limp body and stood, features painted a crimson form of warpaint and frustration, barbels running through his nose and spikes resting calmly through his lips twitching in agitation.

A small, quivering boy stood in the doorway, barely of age to attend the local academy, let alone become a ninja. He held a handful of scrolls in his arms.

Pein didn't move.

The boy's eyes flicked to the corpse of the man missing a tongue and then back, and his eyes grew wide and teary, his lips trembling and his knees drawing in. "G--grandpa?"

"You'll grow up to be a man," Pein said calmly, almost smiling. "You'll become handsome, perhaps, and charming, if you're a lucky one."

The scrolls slipped out of the boy's hands.

In a whisper, he continued: "But I won't let you become my opposition." A swipe of his arm later and the young boy's body was slumping in a defeated heap to the floor, blood pooling and gurgling from the wound just under his chin.

Pein stepped gracefully over his body on his way out, kicking away a stray Leaf headband.


	13. Guilt, ShikaHina

**Guilt**

**Pairing: **Shikamaru x Hinata

**Rating: **T

**Words: **183

So then how was she supposed to feel?

She was taking this man away from two women that might very well have been desperately in love with him. She was disobeying the wishes of her father by being with him. And she was deceiving _him_ by lying about her guilt.

So was she supposed to be happy?

Yes, something told her. That was precisely it. If Temari could be happy for her and Ino could smile and shrug and Shikamaru could lay next to her and look at the sky, then why couldn't _she?_

Why couldn't _Hinata_ stare at the clouds and close her eyes and fall asleep beside Shikamaru?

"You can," Shikamaru muttered, rolling onto his stomach. "Maybe you just don't want to."

Her lip quivered. "No, I--"

"Just...don't go. I don't want you to go just yet."

So maybe he was using her. Maybe everything about their relationship was built on lies and deceit, the very foundation and the walls holding up the ceiling, but she'd tag along for now.

She'd ride it out for as long as she could.


	14. Shower, KisaKonan

**Shower**

**Pairing: **Kisame x Konan

**Rating: **T

**Words: **187

"Is he doing this on purpose?"

"...No."

And so Kisame lifted his head to the sky, squinting into the rain. "Is he angry?"

"I don't believe he has any reason to be."

He glanced at Konan out of the corner of his eye. "You _know_ he loved you."

"Of course."

He straightened himself and adjusted the strap across his chest. "So why do we have any reason to believe that he's feeling particularly vindictive?"

Konan closed her eyes slowly. "Because Pein is no child."

"That doesn't mean he's completely devoid of emotions."

She opened her eyes again, heavy eyeshadow making her seem more tired than she was. The flower in her hair quivered in the shower of rain. "Perhaps not."

The rain didn't cease.

"But he understands that one can only have so much of a good thing."

She continued on ahead, and Kisame stared at her back as she walked further away from him, arms tucked inside the sleeves of her Akatsuki cloak.

A smile gathered at the corner of his lips. "Are you planning on telling me what that's supposed to mean any time soon?"


	15. Beach, KisaSaku

**Beach**

**Pairing: **Kisame x Sakura

**Rating: **T

**Words: **364

It certainly wasn't their first meeting by any measures of the word, but it most definitely was their first hand-to-hand fight on that rocky, rainy beach, dodging kicks and punches and threats of falling over the edge of the cliff. There was such a pretty little shore below, granted, but the last thing Kisame or Sakura wanted to do was land on any of those smooth-looking pebbles. Especially when it was wet. And cold. And absolutely miserable.

So then much chakra eating and rock jumping ensued, as well as a swift kick to the gonads when Kisame accidentally got close enough to palm Sakura's left breast--_ACCIDENTALLY._ Needless to say, he was pissed.

Then again, the bastard had deserved it.

Still, it was no surprise when he knocked Sakura off the cliff and she, in her blind, pounding rage, grabbed him by his soaking wet Akatsuki cloak to drag him down with her.

Neither had a chance to maneuver in such a way that they would land on their feet, so Kisame ended up landing with his back to the smooth, bastard-ass beach pebbles, while Sakura was less-than-comfortably cushioned by Kisame's unnaturally hard chest.

It didn't help matters that the waves decided at _that very fucking moment_ to swell and crest right over Kisame's head and a part of Sakura's, soaking them even more thoroughly.

Sakura punched Kisame's chest weakly. _"Fuck_ I hate this!"

He wasn't even trying any more. "I can see that."

She pushed herself off of him, fuming, slipped twice on the pebbles, _cursed_ the pebbles, and finally was able to clutch onto the side of the cliff they had fallen down.

Kisame stood soon after, wiping some of the water out of his eyes. "Someone has it out for us today."

"Postponed."

He glanced up at her. "What?"

"Postponed, I said. The fight is postponed until we meet again. Because this weather is just fucking ridiculous."

"Agreed."

And so they'd taken off in opposite directions, back to their respective bases, wherever the hell it was they were.

They absolutely did meet again. At the same beach. With the same weather conditions.

And Kisame just sighed. "Indefinitely postponed?"

"Yes."

"Tea?"

_"Yes._


	16. All's Well, SaiSaku

**All's Well**

**Pairing: **Sai x Sakura

**Rating: **M

**Words: **1,872

He was a ghost, and maybe that was why he only ever seemed to haunt her.

There was something about him that made him slightly spirit-like, she supposed. And it wasn't just the deep-set, dark eyes or the pale of his skin, either. Nor the smile he faked or how eerily quiet and domestic he got when he was alone.

"Hag."

And then there were times when he reminded her how human he could be.

She promptly ignored his insult, instead pretending it was a pleasant greeting of sorts. "What're you doing all the way out here, Sai?"

He leaned back in his cross-legged, seated position, gesturing with his free hand toward the sketchpad in his lap. "Sketching."

"Sketching what?"

He hunched over the pad again. "What else is there to sketch out here?"

She sat beside him without invitation. "The trees, then?"

He nodded and closed the sketchpad, flipping the cover over to conceal whatever creation he'd making. "I don't like it when people watch me," he said without even having her ask.

She shrugged. "Understandable, I guess."

"...Why are you out here?"

She scowled at him. "Well, excuse me for wanting to _visit,"_ she said on a hiss, getting up to leave.

He watched her movements with a patient eye. "That's not what I meant. It's cold. You're shivering. Don't you have better things to do?"

She stood over him for a moment, half in the process of leaving, and glanced out at the yawning horizon, covered with trees and just barely able to hide whatever was left of the sun. "Not really. Naruto's already asleep and Yamato is...well, Yamato."

"What exactly _is_ Yamato, then?"

She glared at the back of his pretty head. "What is this, an interrogation? Some sort of new 'human emotions' study?"

"Yes."

Oh, the ever-blunt Sai. Sakura sighed and sat down again, this time so that her back was nearly touching his. "Fine. I'll humor you. Yamato is...creepy."

He turned his head halfway to look at her out of the corner of his eye. "Is that all?"

"No. He's smart, too. Patient. Calm." She picked idly at a fray in the stitches of her sandals. "Reserved, observant, but forceful when need be. Honestly, I think he's a bit too nice."

"I think he just doesn't care."

"Hmm."

"And myself?"

Her senses perked up at this. "Huh?"

"Me. What am I?"

She scoffed. "Fishing for compliments, are we?"

"If I was fishing for compliments, I sure as hell wouldn't ask _you,_ Ugly."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, of course. My opinion matters so little."

"Exactly."

"You're such a prick."

"Go on."

Yeah, he really, _really_ was a prick. Leading the conversation right the way he wanted it to go. Manipulative bastard. Maybe him learning how to deal with human emotions and social situations wasn't such a good thing after all. "And unattractive, and a jerk, and retarded, and severely socially inept, and emotionally stunted, and repressed, and _probably_ a horny bastard, and a borderline creep, and an asshole, and an opinionated shithead, and a hell of a lot uglier than _me."_ And after this she harrumphed, crossing her (now very cold) arms over her chest.

He leaned back, and his back touched hers. "Okay."

She almost jumped at the contact. "W--what? You're not mad?"

"No. Honesty is appealing to me."

"Oh, the _irony."_

"Ironic?"

"Mr. Fake Smile?"

"You developed it."

_"You_ perfected it."

They broke the limited contact in order to turn toward each other, Sakura's stare fierce and intense and Sai's stare...well, emotionless. Rather bored looking, if Sakura had to take a wild guess.

"Teach me, then," he said, and she saw the barest hints of his eyebrows turning down, making his eyes seem even darker. Or maybe it was just the light.

"Teach you what?"

"To smile."

She snorted and hunched, resting her elbows on her knees. He copied her. "I'm sure you already know. You just put up a fake front for society."

"Then teach me to smile for society."

Her stare intensified. "...I don't know... You seem like you're more trouble than you're worth."

"I'll draw a picture of you."

Oh, she couldn't very well turn down _that._ "Fine. What makes you laugh?"

"I don't know."

Sakura sat back and thought for a while, her gaze never wavering from his eyes. And he stared right back, as unfettered as ever. "Hmm. Straighten up."

He straightened his back accordingly.

"Raise your arms."

He did so, resting them above his head.

"Don't resist whatever I do."

"If you hit me, I'm going to hit you back."

"Oh, shut up, I'm not gonna hit you." And with that she damn near crawled into his laps, fingertips assailing his underarms, and then when he reflexively put down his arms to clutch onto her upper arms, she moved down to his sides. She pinched the skin lightly and quickly, almost massaged, smiling despite the fact that Sai seemed more horrified at the physical contact than anything.

"What are you doing, you Ha--ah!"

Jackpot.

And it was official.

Sai was ticklish at his neck.

He rolled onto his back, hunching his shoulders and pushing at her in an attempt to get her to _release_ him, damn it, but Sakura was relentless. Her fingers and thumbs dug into his collarbone and his trapezius muscles, and she was close to straddling him to keep him still.

He wasn't laughing, but wincing and gasping and panting, and she searched for other areas that were perhaps more sensitive, like just above his knees. This proved less satisfying than his neck, so she moved to underneath his knees, up his thigh, and right underneath his butt, and he _squeaked._

He _actually_ squeaked.

So Sakura laughed and laughed hard, forgetting about her quest and leaning back, smiling like it would break her face.

When he recovered, he was a mess. Normally bone-straight, orderly hair stuck out at all ends, falling into his face and obscuring those dark eyes, now lit with curiosity and a certain "what the _fuck?"_ look to them. He was breathing heavy, tucking in his legs and his arms and hunching his shoulders, and Sakura felt ridiculously victorious.

Before he could ask, she laughed once more and pointed to his neck and then underneath his knees. "You're ticklish here and here. And I bet you're ticklish on your feet, too."

He shook his head once. _"What?"_

"You know, I bet it's the lack of physical contact. Your nerves are probably helpless when it comes to a light touch or at certain areas that never get touched at all."

"What was... What did that _prove,_ besides the fact that you're even more of a desperate hag than I thought?"

"Well, I _was_ trying to make you laugh, which in turn would make you smile, but... I failed."

Sai looked, for all rights and purposes, as if he'd just been molested. Repeatedly. With a dead otter.

Sakura grinned. "See? You're more normal than I thought."

Before she could speak again, he was attacking her with his artist's hands, tickling her in the same places she'd tickled him, except...except it didn't tickle. Except it felt kinda good. Except it was more like he was massaging her than anything.

"Uh, Sai...you're doing it wrong."

"Not ticklish here? Let me try here." He moved to her sides and then her stomach, then her hips,, thumbs rubbing over her hipbones and slipping under her skirt once or twice.

The pervert! He really was a horny bastard.

"Get _off!"_

He frowned at her. "Why aren't you laughing? It worked on me."

"'Cause you're doing it--"

One hand passed accidentally over her breast, alarmingly electric and just enough to make her suck in a breath.

"--right."

"Again? I did it right?" he asked, almost, _almost_ excited at his victory. He was like a kid in a candy shop.

A very trapped, confused, _horny_ candy shop...

"Your breasts are ticklish?"

"NO!"

"Yes they are."

Oh, dear God.

But it felt so _good._

So why did she feel like she really _was_ molesting him?

Well, might as well finish the job, then. Maybe she could finally draw some damned emotion out of him.

He was so close that if she lifted up her knee, her thigh would rub against his hip. But things went delightfully astray when he shifted so that he was straddling her, and her thigh rubbed against his _groin_ instead, and he stilled.

Well, shit.

Fingers dug into her ribs, then.

He may have been a stoic prick, but he was still male. And very hormonal, at that.

His fingers loosened their hold in order to slip down to her hips, and there he gripped her and then rocked into her, and she watched his face, saw him close his eyes ever so carefully, saw him grit his teeth.

Ghost or robot or black hole of a human that he may have been, it seemed that even Sai couldn't escape instinct.

Her toes curled anxiously, and she touched his shoulders cautiously. When he didn't respond to this, she slipped her arms around his neck, and he exhaled deeply, pushing his face into the crook of her neck. And then his hips were pressing tight against hers again, and she was lifting herself up into him, and she was probably just exacerbating the whole situation, but hell, who cared at this point?

He mumbled something into her neck that she couldn't understand. And again And once more.

Somehow, she was only able to understand him when his thigh pressed against her sex to push apart her legs a little bit; she was only able to understand him when she could feel his erection--it was so obvious, and was he even _embarrassed_ about it?--pressing into her hip.

_"Sakura._"

Not Hag. Not Ugly. Not Bitch or Kid or You. Sakura.

"...Sai? What are you doing to Sakura?"

She could _feel_ every muscle in Sai's body tense.

"...Does she consent to this?" Yamato continued, appearing from seemingly fucking nowhere, appearing like an apparition or just an illusion, ever-present headgear marking his identity.

And then Sai pulled off her so quickly it was like he'd been burned.

He gathered up his things, dusted himself off, and left where Yamato had (presumably) come from, not even bothering to fix his adorably mussed hair.

Oh, God, she'd just referred to some part of Sai as "adorable."

Something was wrong with her.

Yamato coughed into his hand, apparently uncomfortable. Sakura wondered why it didn't bother HER more that he'd caught them...well...during what may very well have had the potential to be foreplay.

She shuddered. And it wasn't because it was cold.

"Well..." Yamato drawled, shoving his hands into his pocket's. "I'm...gonna head back."

Sakura sighed when he left, finally alone, and rubbed her hands over her face. "Damn it, Sai." He was definitely a robot. She'd decided right then and there. "The first touching moment we have _ever_ and you decide to just completely die on me."

All was well that ended well, she supposed.

And she could do nothing but laugh at the fact that she'd been sexed up by someone she pretty much considered to be a robot-ghost.


	17. Let Go, ItaSaku

**Let Go**

**Pairing: **Itachi x Sakura  
**Rating: **K+

**Words: **100

--------------------

"Let go," he says, but she won't.

"Open your eyes," he says, but she _can't._

Hands are on her wrists, pushing them down, and she tilts up her chin obstinately.

She feels his sharingan eyes, red and spinning and working and _hoping _for her to—

"Open your eyes," he repeats.

And so she does.

And it's wonderful.

"Such ambiguous purposes," he muses, and he disappears in a flutter of a dozen black wings that carry toward the sky.

She looks down at herself, and she is hundreds of sparrows, flittering off without sound.

When she wakes up, she is alone.


	18. Breakdown, AkatSaku

**Breakdown**

**Requester: **CellaN/StereotypeVamp

**Pairing: **Cat!katsuki x Sakura

**Rating: **T

**Words: **627

By the time Itachi realized that he could still use his sharingan as a cat and that Kisame still had impeccable chakra and Deidara still had mouths on his paws and Hidan was still immortal and Kakuzu could still control those horrible stitches and Tobi could still furnish the power of Madara, Zetsu figured it was far too late.

He took Sakura firmly by the hand. "They want to kill me."

"What? Why?"

_"Because they know you're mine."_

"Excuse me?"

"It's a natural feline instinct. I think I've rubbed myself on you one too many times."

Sakura blushed at the implications. "So why do they want to kill you?"

He turned toward her, all stoicism and golden eyes and seriousness wrapped up in a dichromatic face that engraved itself deeply into Sakura's mind. "Because they all love you."

"I..."

"They all want you."

"But I..."

_"You're their master. Their 'pet.' They want you to themselves."_

"Cats are surprisingly territorial," Sakura said, already half in shock.

_"They can't have you._

She turned to Zetsu, who was crouching into a familiar, frightening stance just as each adorable kitten before her changed into something less adorable with the cloudburst of rain. Six S-class criminals, six degenerated human mind, six individuals that were mentally half-cat.

Deidara arched, lips curling back around his teeth.

"Leave, Sakura."

"What? Zetsu, this is ridiculous. Let me just talk to them."

_"Leave."_

Hidan managed to grab her by the arm, jerking her roughly forward and then pressing her against a nearby telephone pole, damn near tearing off her skirt and shorts, mouth on hers and his tongue running frantic, long strokes over her own, overtaking her in the worst way possible. And she didn't want to _hurt_ him--

Hidan was gone in a second and then _Tobi_ was in his place--Tobi! Of all people!--in every sense of the word. She felt dirty and weak all at the same time by having two very different and very dangerous men having their hands in place they shouldn't be and lips on hers, and dear God, Tobi had just pulled her bottom lip between his teeth.

She managed to wrench away from Tobi, right into the arms of Deidara, who gave her a slim beacon of hope. He'd always seemed mildly calm. Rather quiet, as well.

He beamed, and she muttered a hurried, "Oh, thank God." But then he grabbed her by the throat, those horribly wonderful mouths on his palms licking and _biting_ red marks up and down her throat, until...until...

Thread was wrapping around her thighs, sliding up underneath her shorts, touching at the hem of her panties. Two men at the same time? This was getting crazy.

She shoved Deidara back with chakra-strengthened hands and then tore Kakuzu's threads from her, dodging another stream of dark tendrils racing toward her.

Zetsu was there, battling Kisame, who kept sneaking her feral, dark looks.

Shedidn'twantKisametogetherohGodpleasedon'tletKisamegether.

And where was Itachi?

A flutter of black appeared in front of her vision, and she clamped her eyes shut tight.

Looking at Itachi meant death.

Sakura didn't want death.

"Sakura!" she heard Zetsu call, and she tried to find him via his chakra. He had very distinct chakra--it was soft and greenish in color, and she'd always loved it.

"Go!"

When she opened her eyes, _Zetsu_ was Sakura, and Sakura immediately turned herself into Zetsu. The two took off at opposite directions, and the whole gaggle of hormonal cat-men chased after the faux Sakura.

The real Sakura, having just dragged herself around a corner, turned back to her original form, panting.

Someone stepped in front of her, and she looked up warily, almost crying in relief when Naruto gave her a confused look.

"You okay, Sakura?"

"I. Hate. Cats."


	19. Inebriated, Team7Saku

**Inebriated**

**Requester: **CellaN/StereotypeVamp

**Pairing: **Team 7 (plus Yamato and Sai) x Sakura

**Rating: **T

**Words: **189

Drunk.

They were all fucking _retards_ when they were drunk.

She was never throwing a party at her house again.

Naruto stumbled into view, holding the neck of the bottle in one tight fist and waving his free hand in the air. Was he trying to dance? Oh, she hoped not.

Then came Kakashi. She could see a blush creeping up from beneath his mask, but he wasn't exactly like a dumbass. He _was,_ however, having a rather unintellectual conversation with Yamato about the properties of a _cloud._

"Of course not," Yamato laughed, huskily, slapping his own knee in mirth. "What're you talking about, _cotton?"_

"Pff," Kakashi said, rolling his head side to side. "I know it's not made of _feathers."_

Sasuke, who was the least ill-behaved of the bunch, was attempting to physically assault Sai, who was honestly just trying to draw a picture of Sakura's pretty little lamp in peace.

And for some reason, that lamp on the sketchpad looked oddly like he'd gone through an epileptic seizure while drawing it.

Sakura flopped back on her recliner, kicking an empty bottle in the process. "Never. Fucking. Again."


	20. Marry, TobiSaku

**Marry**

**Requester: **inulover4eva648

**Pairing: **Tobi x Sakura

**Rating: **K+

**Words: **210

"Sakura! Will you marry Tobi?"

Sakura promptly slammed the door in Tobi's face.

He was like a stray dog. You feed him once and he keeps coming back for more.

Honestly, when she moved into that neutral territory just on Wind's borders, she didn't expect to meet Tobi, a seceded member of the Akatsuki. And she sure as hell hadn't expected him to ask her for directions back to town.

She'd invited him in for tea, sure, but she'd only wanted information. Sure, she wasn't a shinobi anymore--she'd had enough of the jet set life of a ninja--but that didn't mean that she'd suddenly turned stupid and naive.

He'd come back a couple more times.

And now he was in love with her.

Every day it was the same.

"Will Sakura marry Tobi?"

"Sakura! Tobi loves you!"

"Tobi bought you a ring!"

"Pleasepleasepleaseplease_please?"_

He knocked not three seconds later.

Taking a deep breath, she opened the door back up.

He pulled a bouquet of flowers from behind his back. "Will you at least go to dinner with Tobi?"

She surveyed his outfit: black slacks, blue button-up shirt, trademark orange mask completely gone.

She sighed and rubbed her temples. "Fine."

He jumped for joy. Literally.

"But no marriage proposals!"


	21. Love is Paid with Love, KakuSaku

**Love is Paid with Love**

**Requester: **Aelibia

**Pairing: **Kakuzu x Sakura

**Rating: **T

**Words: **376

"Oh, how the mighty have fallen."

The outstretched hand stayed exactly where it was, though the stitches around Kakuzu's mouth tightened as he sneered.

Haruno Sakura leaned heavily against her doorframe, smirking. "Akatsuki's gone, is it?"

He grunted.

"And you've been captured." Not a question. She already knew the answer.

He grunted again.

"And now you're doing the dirty work for collections agencies for your community service."

"Look, just give me the goddamned money and I'll be on my goddamned way."

"My, my." Sakura placed a finger to her lips. "It seems like you're being more of a _nuisance _than anything."

He growled, and the hand curled into a tight fist. "Give. Me. The fucking. Money."

"_That _sounds like a terrorist threat."

"How many fucking years has it been?" he questioned, dark eyes narrowing. "Ten? Fifteen? I'd tear your fucking throat out if they weren't watching me right now."

She gave a low whistle and looked him up and down, from the tacky prison-issue orange jumpsuit to the hastily tied tennis shoes on his feet. "How the might _have _fallen…"

"_Bitch."_

She sighed and picked herself up from the doorframe. "Alright, Kakuzu. I'll let you off easily this time."

He snorted and folded his arms.

She disappeared into the house, and then returned with her wallet, withdrawing a 500-yen coin. "Here you go. Keep the change."

"You owe _3,000 _yen. There's no fucking change _to _keep."

She shrugged. "If I don't have it, I don't have it. Come back later, hmm?"

He shifted his jaw, and it popped. He didn't flinch.

"Oh, and Kakuzu? Try being a little nicer to your…clients. It'll get you far."

He squeezed the coin tightly in his hand and bowed stiffly. "Afternoon, _Haruno."_

"I'll put tea on next time you come around!" she called impishly as he walked away, and he heard her shut the door behind him.

Grumbling and growling under his breath, he turned the coin over in his hand.

He was only mildly surprised to find a message scrawled in black ink on the back.

"_Love is paid with love."_

And his scowl softened. But only a bit.

He tucked the coin safely into his pocket before he reached his superior, grunting "She had nothing," to the ground.


	22. To Survive, JuuSaku

**To Survive**

**Requester: **Nozomi

**Pairing: **Juugo x Sakura

**Rating: **M

**Words: **346

There are certain things one must do to survive.

Eating, for instance, is one of these things. The body requires nutrition—sustenance. A form of nourishment to convert to energy.

Breathing is another. Lungs must work to fuel other vital body organs.

There are quite a few things, as witnessed, that one must do to keep one's body alive.

Love, however important, is not essential.

Love, however nice, is not needed.

_Love, _however _coveted, _is not vital.

Except to Juugo.

Because he needed this. Even if she didn't reciprocate this love, it was easier to pretend with her physically there than to pretend with just a phantom of her.

He pulled back her hair, pink and pretty and falling through his fingers like silk or water or both, and his lips were on her exposed neck. Her sobs wracked her, making her tremble—vibrate—beneath him.

And it was so intoxicating. It felt _so _necessary. He would die without this. He needed, needed, needed this.

She whined something high-pitched that sounded distinctly like a plea for him to stop.

Chakra-control was no good when one _had _no chakra, he speculated, and his fingers brushed absently over the device at her neck. She was Sasuke's captive—to be used as bait for something, he'd said. And Sasuke would never know of their meeting, of their clandestine performance of the bitter _essence _of affection.

But…she wasn't enjoying it, something told him. She wasn't _liking _his touch. She didn't revel in his breath on her collarbone and his fingers sliding down her forearms to grip her wrists above her head.

Oh, but he didn't care. Juugo could pretend. He'd pretended things all his life—pretended he wasn't a monster, pretended people cared about him, pretended Orochimaru had only the best of intentions.

So he could pretend she wasn't screaming in those muted, breaking gasps. He could pretend there weren't tears streaming in angry, angry streaks down her face.

And as he slipped a hand under the waistband of her skirt, he figured he could pretend that she loved him.


	23. Catch & Release, SaiSaku

I've changed the nature of the game a bit. It's hard for me to keep track of requests when you review, so if you want to request a drabble, please comment on the appointed LJ entry. The link to said entry is on my profile page. Thanks, guys!**  
**

**Catch & Release**

**Requester:** Inulover4eva648

**Pairing:** Sai x Sakura

**Rating:** T

**Words: **201

Catch and release, catch and release, it was all a part of the game. He'd baited the hook and cast it, and as soon as she had it in her jaws, he set it with a jerk.

He would pull her in and tease her and then let her go, and it was an experiment, of sorts, because they both had to _pretend_ to be married for this mission and wasn't this what married couples did? They tugged on each other's heartstrings and dug into each other's emotions and hurt and bruised and wounded and then bandaged it all back up again.

And she would crack eventually; this he knew, because no normal human being could take so much emotional abuse. And he knew he was wrong for doing so, but the fact hardly ever registered, and when it did, he would brush it off without a second glance.

The mission would be over soon, and so too would be his impromptu experiment, so he would take advantage of the time while he could. She was his prey, his dinner, his overall sustenance, and he was going to devour her whole.

With a smile, he tugged the line a little harder.


	24. Abject, SasuSaku

**Abject**

**Requester:** Fizzlez

**Pairing: **Sasuke x Sakura

**Rating: **T

**Words: **487

It was when he was on trial that he noticed her, _really_ noticed her, not just realized how feminine she was despite all of those little grievances or how incredibly graceful she'd become in her maneuvers; he'd noticed that she'd become a woman, a strong one, at that, that she'd shed that immature skin and had emerged as some rare breed of shinobi that he itched to touch.

Because when the judges and jury and everyone present were staring at him with disdain, pity, and something else, he wasn't even paying attention. He was watching Sakura watch _him,_ and it was such a rush, it was such a grand commingling of pleasure and warmth and familiarity that it almost had him doubled over.

She never looked away. She held his dark eyes with hers through the whole thing.

And when they deemed his crimes punishable by death, he never saw her expression. He saw the tears, of course, but she didn't flinch. And she still didn't avert her gaze.

They led him to his death, then, and from the moment when the cuffed him from behind and dragged him along to the time when the closed the doors on outside disturbances, he watched her, felt her, reveled in the roiling of her chakra and the subtle way it said, "I love you, Sasuke, I always have, and I always will; but you are a man if I ever saw one, a great one, and I will never forget you."

If they hadn't drained his own, he would have sent a surge of dark electricity toward her, as well, and it would have said, "I don't love you, Sakura, I never have, and I never will; but you are a beautiful, amazing woman if I ever saw one, one that could hold the latent ability to make me tremble and beg if need be, and I will most likely forget you where I am going, wherever that may be, hell or worse, but I'll take solace in the fact that I'll always be a part of you."

And he could have said it aloud, he could have told her, he could have said _anything_ instead of the customary _nothing,_ but he supposed this was his way of saying he cared. This was his way of speaking without words and showing her without actions that she was his friend, and he was hers, and he'd always hold that dear.

So he did. He held it dear to the very last, till he felt his breath slip from him, and he _did_ go gentle into that good night, because it was all that was left for him now, and he'd never been articulate anyway.

Sakura had been little more than an abject thought before, but now she was everything, he was wrapping whatever was left of his being around her, and he drowned in her presence.

And it was _beautiful._


	25. Full Circle, HidanSaku

**Full Circle**

**Requester:** Aelibia

**Pairing: **Hidan x Sakura

**Rating: **T

**Words: **583

And _"Why?"_ was really all he managed to say.

Hidan shifted in a most agitating fashion. "Well, you know...true love and all that shit."

Kakuzu's blood pressure was about to shoot through the roof. "True love? Are you fucking kidding me, you stupid fuck? Do you have any idea what you're saying? Do you have any idea how much this is going to _cost?"_

"That's all you're ever fucking worried about, you infidel piece of shit. You and your beloved fucking money." The holy man stood with a jangle of necklaces and various other religious items, sweeping his Akatsuki robe over the table. Cups and plate clattered to the floor. "Take your fucking money and shove it in your ass, Kakuzu; I don't need this shit! I come to fucking tell you I'm about to get _married,_ and what the fuck do you do? You undermine and condescend and act like a fucking _dick."_

Kakuzu was keeping alarmingly calm. He busied himself by bending over and picking up the stray shards of porcelain.

"Does it fucking bother you that I'm happy, you sorry fucking shell of a man? Does it fucking _bother_ you that I'm going to invest my time elsewhere?"

"Hidan, shut the fuck up."

"No, _fuck_ you!"

He laid the pieces calmly on the table. "If you'd give me a chance to talk, maybe I could _fucking_ explain."

"Explain? What the fuck is there to explain? You jealous sack of shit, you make me fucking sick."

_"Jealous?_ For fuck's sake, are you even listening to what you're saying?" And his composure was falling quickly down the drain.

"Yeah, I'm listening, but I'm not hearing anything fucking worthwhile."

"You can go on ahead and have your wedding, and you can fuck her till the sun comes up or down or whatever comes first, but don't drain our funds for one fucking adventure. She won't be around long, anyway." He stood up with the pieces in hand and dropped them in the trashcan, wiping his hands.

But Hidan was gone the second he turned around.

- - -

It was months after the fact, maybe a year; honestly, Kakuzu wasn't counting.

"Pink hair? Have you gone soft or something?"

"Shut up, Kakuzu." And Hidan took a drink of whatever was in his cup. "Damn, I'm so lucky. You know that? No one's like there. There is fucking _no one_ out there like her."

Kakuzu "mm"ed. "There certainly isn't," he mumbled around a drink of sake. He shifted in his suit. Damn uncomfortable thing. He wondered how anybody could stand these things for any lengthy amount of time.

Hidan set his cup down hard on the table they'd been leaning on. "Watch me dance with her. She's gonna fall in love with me all over again."

He watched Hidan step all over Sakura's toes.

As it turned out, being the wallflower at a wedding was quite unacceptable. As such, he was approached by one of Sakura's blonde little airhead friends.

Ino, she said her name was, and it sure as hell fit. Pig-like creature that she was.

"Why the hell did she do it?" the girl asked, sighing and leaning against the very same table. "I mean, what the hell? Look at him. He's a complete headcase." She snorted unattractively.

Kakuzu shrugged and downed the rest of his sake, and the warm buzz in his stomach made his stitched mouth curve up into an almost-smile. "I don't know. True love and all that shit."


	26. First, SasuTen

**First**

**Requester:** Aelibia

**Pairing: **Tenten x Sasuke

**Rating: **T

**Words: **121

She was a crazy bitch. They were _all_ crazy bitches. The entire female population of Konoha was just one concentrated core of crazy bitches.

The duct tape over his mouth stung and pulled at the peach fuzz above his lip. The ropes around him dug into his arms, and the tree bark at his back was making him itchy.

Tenten knelt in front of him, a wide, satisfied smile plastered on her face. She petted his head gently, fingers threading through his hair and then curving around his ear.

Sasuke broke out in a cold sweat.

She repeated the process, cooing, "I knew I'd get you first," in a sickeningly sweet voice.

The entire world was just one giant crazy bitch.


	27. Parallels, LeeTen

**Parallels**

**Requester:** Fairy1234

**Pairing: **Lee x Tenten

**Rating: **K+

**Words: **617

They were like tea and dango: he, the dango, salty-sweet and odd-flavored, and she, the tea, calming and quiet, still and warm.

They went perfect together. It was a strange sort of mix, something you normally wouldn't have together, but they made it all the same.

And the flavor, oh, the flavor was amazing. It was an explosion of colors, it was a slow murmur of electricity, it was a buzz of intoxication. It was addicting in and of itself, and neither Lee nor Tenten wanted to rehabilitate.

They just continued on through their days, tea and dango, salty and sweet and everything in between, and took it a step at a time. And they were so opposite they were the same, so repellent that they attracted, so nothing they were everything.

They just _worked._


	28. Goodnight, KisaKonan

**Goodnight**

**Requester:** Fairy1234

**Pairing: **Kisame x Konan

**Rating: **T

**Words: **617

She was exactly how she portrayed herself, every bit as fragile and quiet and light as the origami she used. And he would watch her sometimes, glancing nonchalantly through the crack in her door to see her folding paper, sometimes colored but mostly just plain white, into flowers, animals, anything.

She never had to buy her own paper. It was written off as Akatsuki's expenses just as Deidara's clay had. She was an artist, but she wasn't. She made things that were breathtaking and dangerous and amazing all at the same time, but she wasn't loud about it. She wasn't arrogant, like Sasori had been; she wasn't obnoxious, like Deidara had been; she was humble and reserved and would never force whatever it was she believed on others. In fact, he wasn't quite sure what her beliefs were.

Normally, Kisame would never bother with such things as camaraderie among the other Akatsuki members. He had Itachi, and that was all he needed. But there were so little of them left, now. It was only a matter of time before all they had built up from the ground was destroyed.

And so entreated her, late at night, for conversation.

She agreed, and they talked well into the morning.

"What are your views on art?"

And she'd smiled so softly. "I'm not an artist, Kisame."

"You create things. You are an artist."

"And do you not, also? All of your jutsus, your summons, your battle strategies? _Any_ person who creates--who molds something out of nothing--is an artist." And her fingers had worked around the paper so gently, folding here, tucking there, until she was done, and she offered him the origami in her hand: a rose. Like the one in her hair. "Everybody is an artist, Kisame. Most just aren't sure yet."

He'd smiled and taken the rose, and even if it had given him a nasty papercut, and even if she had laughed at him and then gone to bed, he felt marked in more ways than one. She'd cut him, laid a claim she didn't even know she'd made, and it felt intoxicating.

And so the next day, they spoke again. And the next. And it became a routine, of sorts, because it was Kisame's turn to lay a claim.

"Pein is an artist," Konan one day said. "The entirety of the Akatsuki is a work of art."

"Pein is a fool."

And she's given him a half-lidded glance. "You speak so brazenly."

"I speak what I know."

"Oh? And what _do_ you know?"

He'd opened his mouth to retort, not quite understanding the bubble of annoyance at the mention of Pein, but she'd put a finger to his lips, effectively silencing him.

She shook her head, though the smile gracing her was enough to let him know that she wasn't angry. "Enough, Kisame. No more."

He'd pulled the finger into his mouth, and it had been worth it by the surprised look on her face. And he bit down carefully, but it was enough. He tasted blood, and his thoughts felt fuzzy.

She pulled away from him quickly enough, staring at the small cut on her finger.

He wasn't sure whether to be ashamed, embarrassed, or both.

He stayed with her through the night, the morning, and well into the afternoon, and never once did she complain. Not when he touched her, not when she tangled the sheets beneath her, not when he kissed her and she kissed him back and time flew by in increments of gasps, shudders, and slow, whispered words.

It had been such a long time since he'd said it, and each syllable rolled off his tongue like honey. "Goodnight."


	29. All's Well, KisaSaku

**All's Well**

**Requester: ** IvyAdrena

**Pairing: ** Kisame x Sakura

**Rating: ** T

So maybe this outing hadn't been the best idea.

Especially since Sakura couldn't swim.

Especially since Konoha was landlocked.

Especially since Kisame should have fucking _known_ better, damn it.

One would think that years of being a member of a criminal organization would really heighten his intellect to things like this.

Still, none of that was important now. What WAS important was that he was diving in the ocean to save a drowning Sakura, who was struggling to keep her head up and failing miserably. And the anklet on him was fizzing and dying in the water because it was _not_ water-proof, and the police were going to be here very, very soon.

But he managed to retrieve her. Thankfully. And she was still breathing, still aware, though she coughed her lungs out and clung to him like a second skin.

He hauled her onto the beach and laid her in the sand, hovering over her and staring down at her. Dark blue hair fell over his eyes, and he blinked it out of the way.

She almost seemed distant, but she smiled after she coughed a couple more times. "Thanks. The undertow--"

"Mm, it gets pretty bad out here."

"I'm sorry. You ruined your anklet."

"I'll explain to them. I'm sure they'll understand."

A man grabbed Kisame by the back of his soaking wet collar, and Kisame obediently got to his feet. Not that the police officer was a threat to Kisame, who was a good head taller than him, but he didn't want to be convicted of tampering with government property. Or whatever they were going to convict him of.

Sakura explained to the officer, thankfully, who was in the area and had heard the call on his radio.

But at the end of the day, Kisame still had to go to jail until they could issue another anklet. He couldn't be let out to run around free yet; that was for sure.

He asked Sakura to pack him some tuna sandwiches.


	30. Detached, TobiSaku

**Detached**

**Requester:** Kyuudaime

**Pairing: ** Tobi x Sakura

**Rating: **T

**Words: ** 458

Maybe, if this dark-haired man's smile wasn't peering out from behind broken portions of his mask, he wouldn't look so insane.

Maybe, if he hadn't just stepped on her teammate like a bug, tossed him away and left him to die somewhere on the very fringes of her senses, he wouldn't seem so frightening.

Maybe, just _maybe,_ if he didn't take off the remainder of his mask to reveal a cut, boyish face that was tainted with years of malpractice and discontent, Sakura would have taken pity on Tobi.

But because he was leaning down and pulling her shirt up past her breasts, and because she was exhausted and couldn't move and her chakra was drained, her eyes welled up with tears. She didn't want this. This man was crazy. This man would kill her; this man had killed everyone else.

She tried to push him away weakly, but he just shrugged her off, much like he'd shrugged off Naruto's most powerful jutsus and attacks.

And then his hands, gloved and the cotton-soft against her skin, though in the most horrifying of ways, slipped under the waistband of her skirt and shorts. His fingers played with the edges of her panties, and his mouth was pressed tight against her neck, breathing hot and getting heavy with each ministration.

He never said a word. It was almost as if he regretted doing it, but he didn't stop, either.

The tears finally spilled over, and she choked on a sob, still trying valiantly to get him to go away. "Leave me alone. You killed my friends; wasn't that enough?"

He stopped almost instantly, and he pulled away only his face to look at her.

His cheeks and the bridge of his nose were flushed a dark red, and his eyes were half lidded, but a pretty brown color.

She cried harder. "Please just stop it."

He looked utterly abashed for a moment, and then he pulled away. "Oh--I--ah, Tobi is--so sorry..."

She cried all that much harder.

He looked like he was panicking for a moment, and it was almost like he was a completely different person. He whipped off his Akatsuki cloak, laying it over her and tucking it around her. "Tobi is so sorry--Tobi didn't mean to...to hurt you... Please don't cry. Stop crying..."

There was a couple more minutes in which he kept trying to placate her and she kept up the steady sobbing, and then seeing that he just did more hurt than help, he left.

He actually left.

The first thing Sakura did when she got home, shaky and tired and writing report after report, was burn that Akatsuki cloak.

And it burned with a sickly sweet scent.


	31. Divine, PeinSakuIta

**Divine**

**Requester: ** TearsOfSapphire

**Pairing: ** Pein x Sakura x Itachi

**Rating: ** T

The underlines of their relationship was built on sin. Luxuria, Gula, Avaritia, Superbia, almost all of them came into play.

It was like a castle built upon the sand, in essence. The building itself was strong, proud, beautiful, to an extent, and yet harboring so many dark, morbid secrets.

But the foundation was shaky, sinking. It was constantly shifting and pulling that castle under, and it wouldn't be long before the very structure would cave in.

But it hadn't happened yet, and quite frankly, Pein, Sakura, and Itachi weren't quite concerned. The meetings in the night, the using superiority to sneak out of Konoha, out of the Akatsuki base, the clandestine little stumble-upons that had them all set into compromising positions...

They were all going to Hell, Sakura realized, and if not Hell, someplace equally unpleasant. Because Pein was pressing his mouth to hers, tongue slipping in for a quick taste, and Itachi was running a thumb through her sex, pressing gently down on that certain bundle of nerves.

But if they were all going to Hell anyway, then Sakura was absolutely fine with enjoy her Heaven on Earth.


	32. Flaw, DeiSaku

**Flaw**

**Requester: ** CellaN

**Pairing: ** Deidara x Sakura

**Rating: **T

He'd slipped under skin by only a margin. It had been just a narrow opening, but he'd managed to get in. And once he was in, he was absolutely not going to leave.

Because the man with the blond hair that fell over his eye and down his shoulders said things in such a manner that her heart either melted or simply warmed. Because putting all of those personality quirks aside, the "yeah," thing, the obsession with explosions (or "art," as he called it), the exuberance in every little thing he did, he would be so utterly boring. She cherished what would otherwise be labeled as faults.

Because he could talk her ear off as she tried to configure his scope all day long, and they'd never tire of each other's company. Because even if his values weren't exactly the same as hers, Sakura would not be attracted to a carbon copy of herself, anyway.

Because when it all came down to it, his company was such a treat. And she could never get enough of it.


	33. Schwarz, PeinSaku

**Schwarz**

**Requester: ** Reddragon13x

**Pairing: ** Pein x Sakura

**Rating: **T

She didn't how how it had happened or why, exactly, but she knew now, more than ever, that it would not be going away. Or, more specifically, _they_ would not be going away.

Because on one side of her lap was Pein, and on the other was Pein. There were two Peins fast asleep on top of, and she had no clue what to do.

She knew _how_ she had gotten into this, sure, and that was offering to heal both Peins at the same time. There were six Peins in all, but the actual Pein, the originator, the spiky-haired, more attractive one with three barbells through his nose, preferred his Deidara look-alike as a main partner.

So they'd both readily agreed, because while they were both more or less the same person, that didn't mean that they shared the same emotions and personality.

Real Pein, Pein One, she referred to him, had come first, of course, outstretching a burnt arm.

And then came faux-Pein, or Pein Two, with a broken hand.

And then the fighting. Oh, the fighting. The jealousy, the bickering, the everything...

When they'd become tired...

Well. Here she was now.

She threaded her fingers through Pein Two's hair, and since Pein One had used gallons of gel for _his_ hair, she settled for fondly stroking his neck.

It was going to be a long day.

But then Pein One and Pein Two both sighed simultaneously into each thigh, and she found that she didn't quite mind.


	34. Schackled, JiraiSaku

**Shackled**

**Requester: ** Dragnclaw

**Pairing: ** Jiraiya x Sakura

**Rating: **T

She was shackled to the ground in ever figurative sense of the word, arms and legs tied down, bound by the ankles and wrists, metal cuffs digging into her skin and making her cry out.

But she loved every minute of it, she surmised, by just the way it made her feel. It was painful, at first, humiliating, but it hurt more that _he_ suffered so much, at how far he had gone just for her. But when the pain subsided and the dust cleared, it felt like such a sinful sort of heaven that Sakura never wanted to leave.

And Jiraiya... Well, Jiraiya was there, too. She could see the guilt in his face, sometimes, and she could see the way he valiantly kept his head up when he was jeered at.

And she knew that it hurt Tsunade. She knew that it hurt Naruto. Jiraiya was like Naruto's father, or a particularly loving uncle, and Tsunade was the same, though female counterpart, to Sakura.

It was natural for them to perhaps be angry. Sakura had taken away a lover and a family member, and Jiraiya had taken away likewise.

It was a circle of original sin, neverending, just sinning and sinning and sinning some more.

And maybe it wasn't right, maybe it shouldn't even have happened at all, but in the end, the fact of the matter was that it _had_ happened. In the end, the fact of the matter was that they were finally together, and they were _happy_ despite the occasional grievance.

And in the end, the fact of the matter was that...

...it was all that really mattered.


	35. Smoke and Mirrors, ZetsuSaku

**Smoke and Mirrors**

**Requester: ** Nibinoneko

**Pairing: ** Zetsu x Sakura

**Rating: ** T

They were having a supposedly clandestine meeting, she and him, playing up the part for any watchers.

Each of them had been chosen to act as mediators between the Akatsuki and Konoha. Akatsuki's leader had been killed, Pein, all six of him, and his successor had taken the proverbial throne.

And Konan had turned it all around. She wanted peace with Konoha, she'd said. She wanted peace with _all_ the countries, and though it was quite a feat in itself for her to want to undertake, it wasn't impossible.

She related most with Konoha because the leader was female. Tsunade had been less than thrilled to mingle with the likes of the Akatsuki, but she'd relented, and had sent Sakura out.

Zetsu was apparently the most sociable of all of the Akasuki, which, in criminal terms, translated to the least likely to maim or otherwise destroy her.

"Oh, wow! Is that you, Jinsei?" Sakura jumped up from her place at the bar, running to Zetsu and touching his arm. "I haven't seen you in years. How have things been going?"

Zetsu smiled gently, cocking his head to the side. "I see you're the same as always, Kimiko." He took Sakura up in a hug before she could _violently_ protest, and she patted his back stiffly, gritting her teeth.

He released her, and she jumped back. "What do you say we get a table? I'd love to catch up."

And so they did. And it was all going according to plan. They found a table at the very far end of the restaurant, secluded from prying eyes and ears.

He sat across from her, straightening the business-like coat that he wore and removing his fedora. A thin cigar was tucked into ribbon encircling it, and he pulled it out, as well as a lighter from his breast pocket.

Sakura frowned. She _hated_ the smell of cigar smoke, but she said nothing. He was supposed to be an old friend, remember?

"So how have things been with you?" she asked, striking conversation just in case anybody else was listening. They weren't, but it was best to take extra precautionary measures.

He shrugged and lit the cigar with a flick of flames, and then took a hit. The lighter was set on the table.

She wondered if he really smoked cigars or if he was just playing up the image.

"Hana left me."

"Oh, no, how come?"

At least he was blowing the smoke away from her. But it was still reaching her somehow, making the air feel stagnant and heavy.

"Just differences, I guess. I didn't think the marriage would last anyway. Konan wants to set up a meeting with your hokage sometime within the next month or so."

He'd incorporated the message so seamlessly that she hardly realized what he'd said. "Tsunade got the message. The twenty-first of August is the only day when it will be possible."

Zetsu nodded. "Good." He took another hit, and the end of the cigar glowed a vivid red-orange before dying. The smoke leaked out of his mouth in a breath.

"I believe we're done here, then," Sakura said, and she went to get up.

But he stuck out his hand, cigar offered, and blinked. "Would you like to--"

She took the hint and sat back down. "No, I don't smoke."

"Good. It's bad for you." He put the cigar to his mouth, talking around it. "But in the good way."

"You're confusing."

"I'm articulate."

"So I gathered."

His eyes never left her, and she realized, almost belatedly, that he was wearing makeup. It looked to be some sort of foundation, but around his right eye, she could clearly see some dark skin peeking through.

And the eyes in question were a bright golden color with no pupils, and they reminded her of the Hyuuga clan. The hair on his head was a soft green color, the color of spring grass.

He looked rather...ridiculous, in her opinion.

But he kept staring at her, like he was silently infatuated, like he was about the pounce on her and eat her up. And maybe it was the smoke, but the way he was looking at her made her feel so, so good.

...It was definitely the smoke.

"It was very nice talking to you again, Jinsei, but I have to go home."

He waved her off, but stood up, also, taking her by the chin and giving her a soft, cigar-tasting kiss on her lips. The presence of his tongue was when she drew the line, and when she pulled away, cigar smoke leaked from both his mouth and hers.

She swallowed, bowed, and made her leave. Quickly.

Zetsu put out the cigar on the table, where it sizzled into the wood. "'Till next time, Kimiko."


	36. The End, TobiKonan

**The End**

**Requester:** Kyuudaime

**Pairing: ** Tobi x Konan

**Rating: **T

**Words: ** 128

He was her leader in more than one way.

He was her conquerer, he ruled her, he told her where to jump and how high. He had a hold on her, and she had no say in it. Not that she would want to have a say, anyway, because this was what they did.

He was dominant, and she let him play his game. Because in the end, it worked all that much better for her.

And Konan could look past all of those little flaws, the split-personalities, the third-person speech pattern, the way he stuttered when he was nervous but was absolutely calm and collected the next minute.

She would look past it because he was her leader, and she'd follow him to the end.


	37. Utopia, SasoSaku

Utopia

**Utopia**

**Requester: **No one in particular—pretty much everyone requested this.

**Pairing: **Sasori x Sakura

**Rating: **T

**Words: **626

He made her insides churn.

The first time, when she had fought him alongside Grandma Chiyo, with stone walls crumbling and the dirt at their feet stirring up into a crazed flurry. His parents were his puppets, he'd said. A kazekage was his puppet, he'd said. They were all his puppets in the end, he'd said. Her stomach had heaved, her throat had tightened, and Chiyo had narrowed her eyes.

The second time, when his dry, splintering, broken puppets had been sent as a thank you gift of sorts from Suna to Konoha, and Sakura had to inspect them. She'd had to clean them, restore them, look into his parents' immobile faces and the kazekage's again as she wiped the dust off of their eyes and oiled their joints and sprayed gloss into their hair. Her eyes had watered painfully and Tsunade had set the three of them behind a glass case in Konoha's history museum.

The third time, when the report came in directly from Tsunade that he had been spotted barely surviving somewhere on the outskirts of Fire Country. He was half-dead, according to eye-witness accounts, and was living off of nothing—he was a puppet, after all, immortal. Tsunade had given the mission of retrieving and/or killing Sasori to Sakura, and her heart had dropped straight down.

The fourth time, when she had found him, weak and helpless, hiding under the outcropping of a large rock cave as a sandstorm whipped through the barren landscape. She'd joined him, not feeling any measure of a threat from the man who had once held her life in his palm. He pretended not to notice her, or the way she stared at him intently, but when she spoke, he did acknowledge her. "Why are you here, Sasori?" There was no malice at all.

"I'm looking for peace." He'd turned away from her, staring at the back wall of the cave.

She'd looked over his body, broken, his heart container hastily fixed, sealed, and guarded, and felt a small degree of sympathy for him. "Things could have been different. You could have changed your life."

And then he'd left, a sick, hollow laugh. "There was never a way for me to change," he spoke, voice gravelly. "I never had any other paths to make. I decided my own fate."

"Had you resigned to die that day?" The sandstorm continued to rage outside.

He glanced at her sideways, his eyes red-rimmed, his hair a pathetic mess, the wood of his body dry, like his parents and the kazekage had been. His joints creaked mournfully whenever he moved. He didn't answer.

Seconds passed, then minutes. Finally, at length, he spoke. "You've come to take me to Konoha?"

"Those are my orders."

He leaned heavily against the back wall. "I've worked so long, so hard, just to survive." He closed his eyes. "I'm tired."

She fidgeted uncomfortably, watching instead the sand blowing outside. "You said you were looking for peace. Did you find it?"

"Utopia, more like. I was looking for Utopia."

There was a brief pause before she continued, though quietly. "And did you find it?"

When he smiled, his chapped lips broke and bled. "The most beautiful thing about Utopia is that it doesn't exist, Sakura."

"I suppose you're right."

"If you have to take me back, don't take me back alive. There is no Heaven on this Earth." When he touched her ankle lightly, she shivered. "There is only Hell." He never opened his eyes, and he never would again.

When she trekked back to Konoha, victorious but feeling ill, Sasori's limp puppet body slung over her shoulder, her stomach heaved and here eyes watered and her heart dropped a little further.

He made her insides churn.


	38. Resolutions, DeiSaku

**Resolutions**

**Requester: **tricia1224

**Pairing: **Deidara x Sakura

**Rating: **T

**Words: **299

He resolved to maybe cut his hair sometime soon, because it was annoying how much it got in his hair during battle and how it stuck to his sweaty neck and back during sex and how it was so goddamn difficult to manage.

She resolve to maybe turn down the burners once in a while, because there was no reason Deidara should break at least one bone bi-monthly by Sakura's hand and because their screaming matches reached well into the mesosphere when he said things like "Maybe I wouldn't want sex so much if you weren't such a stingy bitch, yeah," and because she was totally going to blow their cover this way.

He resolved to take his art outside and far, _far_ away from Sakura's eye- and earshot, because even if she didn't condemn him for it, that didn't mean she had to like it.

She resolved to leave medic-mode at the hospital, even when Deidara was pretty much dying from the hole in his chest and she was careful of _that_ tattoo, because even if she was the best goddamn medic this side of the world, he liked a little emotion.

They resolved not to resort to fist-fighting when spats got out of hand, and to have friendly spars to let off steam instead. (Yeah right.)

Sakura resolved not to drink so much and Deidara resolved not to keep secrets so much and Sakura resolved not to demand he leave Sasuke out of it because sometimes Sasuke was a part of it, damn it, and Deidara resolved not to bar them from talking about the Akatsuki _at fucking all_ because some things needed to be said.

Most importantly, they resolved to be better lovers and friends and partners. And this was the one most likely to stick.


	39. She's a Lady, GaiSaku

**She's a Lady**

**Requester: **stereotype_vamp / CellaN

**Pairing: **Gai x Sakura

**Rating: **T

**Words: **868

It loomed over her like an omen. A leafy, cheery, innocent omen.

But when were omens ever innocent?

Holiday parties were normally not Sakura's thing. In fact, parties in _general_ were usually not Sakura's thing. She avoided them in favor of resting her sore feet at home, taking a nice, hot, long bath, and reading a nice book. Or, hell, even studying. Long nights at the hospital and on the field left her more tired and more impatient the older she grew.

But tonight, tonight was different. She was twenty-one--finally!--and she had forced herself to don a nice, poinsettia-red velvety dress for this outdoor Christmas party at the park. This winter was a mild one, which was rare for Leaf, and did she mention she was twenty-one?

She was currently wearing a black suit jacket that was two sizes too big to cover her suddenly cold shoulders. She was also holding a red plastic cup of some whisky-and-cream-based liqueur. It warmed her bones and made her throat constrict all at the same time. She nursed it gingerly.

The jacket, as it happened belonged to Gai. Maito Gai, the Green Beast, as they called him, but he wasn't very beastly at all, in fact, and, quite the contrary, he was acting very subdued tonight. Maybe it was the alcohol and maybe it was just how Gai was when he didn't have an audience of students or friends.

Sakura didn't dare glance at the mistletoe above them. She didn't want to know what would happen if Gai noticed it.

He shifted where he leaned against the wooden railing of the gazebo, folding one leg over the other and taking a sip of his drink. His high, sharp cheekbones held more color than usual, but otherwise, there was nothing at all that hinted at Gai being intoxicated. So maybe he wasn't.

Things were getting awkward. The conversation had progressed from "Strange weather we're having," to "Are you cold? Here, take my jacket," to "I'll keep you company," to where it was now: nothing.

"I should head home," Sakura said quietly, cupping both hands around her drink. "It's getting late."

Gai beamed down at her and then moved to guide her down the gazebo steps.

Don't look up, Sakura thought. Oh, please don't look up.

"I've enjoyed talking to you," Sakura admitted, even if the conversation had been stilted and a little one-sided and very, very awkward. "We should...talk again sometime."

He just smiled again. His lack of commentary was unnerving her.

"Well!" She slipped the jacket from her shoulders and handed it to him, feeling distinctly uncomfortable when his eyes strayed too long on her collarbone. "Thanks for the...jacket, as well."

"My pleasure." He folded it over his arm, setting his cup on the railing. "It's been a beautiful night."

"Yes, it has. No clouds at all. And it wasn't too chilly."

Gai looked up.

NO.

"Mistletoe," he mused, blinking at the plant hanging from the lattice of beams above them. "Who would put that there?"

"I'm not sure," Sakura continued hurriedly.

Gai looked at her expectantly.

Sakura swallowed thickly.

He started to speak, but Sakura, decided that, oh, to hell with it, she was twenty-one and it was Christmas and the mistletoe was being annoying with it's foreboding, looming danger, and she stood on her tippy-toes and grabbed Gai by his collar. She missed and kissed the corner of his mouth first, and then her nose crushed his painfully, and through the stinging of her eyes she finally fit her lips over his, tasting the spiked eggnog he'd been drinking and minty freshness that probably always hung around him. Jeeze, how many times did this man brush his teeth a day?

There was no tongue. Gai's hands stayed obediently put. He responded, but it felt scripted.

Sakura pulled away. She felt cheated.

Gai looked stoic and unimpressed.

Sakura suddenly felt angry.

_"What?_ Why are you looking at me like that?" she seethed, pouting. "It's mistletoe. I had an obligation!"

"Well," Gai said, sounding a bit stunned. "...Well."

Now veritably pissed off and feeling every bit a woman on a mission with something very drastic to prove, she shoved him back against the pole and crashed her lips against his, shutting her eyes tight, tongue running over his bottom lip and over his tongue and angling her head and threading fingers into his hair and pressing her hips into his thighs, because he was too tall.

Gai did respond this time, and it felt less mechanical and more hesitant. Hands touched her bare shoulders and then slid down her waist and settled on her hips and Sakura arched her back, because that was just when women did when they kissed and enjoyed it.

And Sakura pulled back, and...and...

And Sakura enjoyed it.

She turned a lovely shade of red at the moment, stepping politely away from him and smoothing her dress across her thighs. She almost apologized, but her pride would not allow this.

"I really should get back," she whispered instead. "Thank you again. And merry Christmas."

He grabbed her shoulder gently and then stood beside her as they exited the gazebo.

"Perhaps I should walk you home."


End file.
